Dream Deferred
by Risti
Summary: Politics. Power. Love. Lies. What happens to a Dream Deferred? A speculative fic centred around Percy Weasley post-OotP.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

"We are gathered here today to remember the life of a great wizard."

Percy sat near the front of the crowd, listening as Cornelius Fudge began the eulogy for his mentor, his childhood hero.  

"Bartemius Crouch was a man whose passion for justice and peace in our world has affected every one of our lives."

_Well, I don't know if in the end it was his passion for justice and peace, or his other, baser passions that affected my life more, _thought an American witch sitting in a back corner of the grand cathedral.  She schooled her expression to stay solemn for the sake of her teenage son next to her.

"It seems almost unnecessary to recount his greatest moments, as they have already become features of our recent history, and are well known to all of us here."

_Not all of us. _ The teenage boy was desperate to hear information about the man he'd never heard of until a week ago.  _Please, tell me something about my Father!_

"Barty Crouch was more than just a co-worker of mine - he was also a close friend."

_Liar,_ Percy thought bitterly.  _He considered you a fool, and you made certain his scandals were publicized to the full extent to benefit your own political career._

"Many of us probably owe him our lives – whether we realize it or not."

_Well, _now_ I realize it.  It would have been nice to have heard of the man responsible for my existence before_ he died.__

"When the shadow of You-Know-Who hung heavy upon us, it was Barty Crouch who fought hardest to have it lifted.  If he hadn't taken control, the situation would be very bleak now indeed."  

The American witch wasn't the only person crying at this point, but she was probably the loudest.  _He fought so hard.  He really was a good man-I know he was._

"He dedicated everything to our world.  His strength, his blood, and ultimately, his life to our world."

Across the packed cathedral, Percy also had tears flowing down his face.  _Except in the end, he let loyalty to his blood do him in.  Percy's thoughts were bitter that such a grace could become a mortal weakness._

"We will all miss his presence.  May he rest in peace."

Somewhere in the rafters, a choir began the dirge, and the masses who had gathered began the slow procession past the closed casket.  To some there that day, he was a hero.  To others, he was a villain.  Still they came to see him laid to rest.  It gave Percy satisfaction somewhere deep within him to see all these people mourn his mentor.  Yet somehow, he couldn't join them in their walk.  It wasn't enough for him.  _His_ memorial to Crouch would be the rest of his life, to try to carry on where he had left off.  There was still much left unfinished.  For now, he just watched the crowd walk by.  Slowly they shuffled by, a sea of black robes.  Above, the choir sang on.  

Percy began to prepare himself to say his final good byes, when he observed a mother and son talking by the casket.  When the boy turned so that his face was visible, Percy let in a deep breath.  _Crouch's son.  The resemblance was uncanny; no one who had ever met Crouch could deny it.  There had always been rumours during Crouch's glory days, while his wife was ill, but over the years they'd been forgotten.  When word came out after his death that the American boy had been named the Crouch heir, the press had a field day.  Now here he was…_

"Mom, why isn't the casket open?"

"They must have decided to keep it closed, Karl."

"But I want to see him.  Who can open it up for me?"

"Karl, I'm sure they have a reason…"

"He's my Father, and I want to see him."  Karl's tone was firm, and it was also getting louder.  

Percy wasn't the only person observing the conversation anymore, and he saw a lingering cameraman start to dig out his equipment after the boy's last line.  Percy sighed.  He'd hoped this sort of thing could have been avoided.  It tainted Crouch's memory to have everyone focused on these two rather than on the wizard they had come to mourn.  He stepped forward, deciding to deal with the situation quickly and as quietly as possible before it got out of hand.

"I'm afraid that's impossible, _Karl," Percy spoke quietly, purposely letting the boy know he knew who he was before turning to his mother.  "Did you not pass on the report of Mr. Crouch's death, Mrs. Flourish?  I made sure it was included in the notice sent to you, for yours and the boy's sake.  I'm sure you realize that it makes an open casket impossible."_

"Percy?  Percy Weasley?  Is that you?  Of course it's you, look at the hair.  I couldn't believe it when I saw your name on the letter.  You really are all grown up and you did go work for Crouch, just like you said you would when I last saw you.  Do you remember that day I watched you?  You could have only been five at the time." The woman was babbling now, and Percy sighed.  There were stories of Eleanor Flourish's ability to make a scene, and not only had she not grown out of it, it was apparently genetic.

"You obviously got the letter I sent out, but clearly didn't follow its directions to tell your son the details."

"What details?" Karl demanded.  "What did you not tell me?"

Eleanor choked back a sob, tears welling up in her eyes.  "There was so much to tell him, I was overwhelmed. I just wanted to spare him…"  She was crying rather pathetically now. 

"Spare me!" Karl's voice had definitely risen above a tone that should ever be used indoors.  "Spare me the same way you did when you decided not to tell me that dad isn't my Father?  Now will someone please open this casket and let me look at my Father's face once in my life, even if it's too late for him to ever see mine!"  His glare included not only his mother and Percy, but the growing crowd around them.

"Out!" Percy said, summing up every ounce of authority he could.  Some of the crowd began to disperse, but many remained.  The cameraman had finally got his equipment set up, and snapped a picture of the scene.  Fudge was looking at Percy, questions in his eyes.  Percy looked straight at him as he spoke again.

"For Merlin's sake, he _is_ Crouch's son.  Give the boy a few minutes privacy."  Fudge seemed to get the message, and ushered the last stragglers out of the church.  After he shut the door, the silence seemed to echo through the cavernous cathedral.

"Can I see my Father now?"  Karl was quieter, but that only made his hopeful question seem even more desperate.  Percy looked directly at Eleanor.

"Would you like to explain the situation to him, or do you need me to do it?"  Eleanor's answer was another sob.

Percy hesitated.  How did you tell a fourteen year old that his father had been murdered - by his other son?  Did the boy even know he had a half brother?  For a brief moment he came very close to understanding why Eleanor had skirted around the topic.  

Ten minutes later, Fudge came back in.  He avoided looking at Karl and Eleanor, and instead looked at Percy.  "We can't wait any longer.  It's time for the burial."

Eleanor was dabbing her eyes daintily, and Karl rubbed the back of his hands over both of his eyes.

"You understand then-it's been months.  I'm afraid the body just isn't viewable." Percy was relieved to see Karl nod as he finished, even if the boy did look a bit pale.

"We're finished," Percy told Fudge.  As that man turned around again to open the doors, Percy had one last thing to say to Karl.  "If you have any further questions about Crouch, I'll answer whatever I can."  Then, together, along with the handful of other men Fudge had let back in, they lifted the casket onto their shoulders to carry out.  Fudge had no choice but to follow behind them.  _Unfinished business is what I said I'd take care of.  Your son is one place to start._


	2. Chapter 1

_What happens to a dream deferred?  
Does it dry up  
like a raisin in the sun?  
Or fester like a sore  
And then run?  
Does it stink like rotten meat?  
Or crust and sugar over-  
like a syrupy sweet?  
Maybe it just sags  
Like a heavy load  
  
Or does it explode?_

**Chapter 1 **

"Excuse me." Percy frowned slightly, automatically, as the figure bumped into him.  The other morning he had noticed the permanent wrinkle beginning to crease his forehead, but he hadn't yet connected it to his habit of frowning with his whole face.  It was the one show of emotion he had yet to completely conquer.  Looking down to make sure the stack of papers he was carrying hadn't been mussed, he was unsettled for a moment by a pair of large, protruding eyes.

"You're Percy Weasley." She looked up at him, as if she was quite used to bumping into people in the halls. "You work for the Minister." Something about the way she was looking at him unnerved Percy.  Her large eyes reminded him of a house elf.

"I'm sorry, have we met?" Percy asked with an almost imperceptible sigh.  He was due for a meeting with the Minister, but manners could not be forgotten in the Ministry.  Not even when some bug eyed girl ploughed into you, at least not when it happened in the hallway outside the Minister's office.

"Oh, I suppose you don't remember me." She paused a moment, though she appeared to be perfectly all right with this.  "I suppose I have changed, although Father tells me I still look like his little pumpkin.  It has been two years, and while you were Head Boy, I know you focused on only one person from our house.  No one really notices me anyhow.  I guess being friends with Ginny and Ron has put you on my mind.  Still, you would be the perfect one to help me."  She looked up at Percy expectantly.

Percy recognized now that this girl must be a Hogwarts student, third or fourth year from the looks of her.  He brushed off the remark about her House.  As Head Boy, he felt he had been entirely unbiased in how he looked at the various Houses.  His mind was reeling at the mention of his siblings, however.  Yet before questions and concerns could fully form in his conscious mind, they had been overwhelmed by contempt.  His frown deepened as he reached his conclusion.  She must be here, in the Minister's hallway, as a spy, one of the Order of Dumbledore, or whatever he called them.  Obviously someone he did not need to waste his time or manners on.  But wait, she wanted help from him?  What could he help her with, here in the heart of the Ministry of Magic?  What could she expect him to help her with?  As it hit him, he chuckled inwardly over his previous paranoid assumptions.

"Are you lost?  Just continue down this hall, turn right, and it will take you to the elevator."

"What?  No, I-"

"I'm afraid that's all the help I can offer you; I'm terribly busy right now.  You should ask at the Help Desk in the Atrium.  Eighth floor.  I believe they provide tours for visitors, if you're interested."

"Wait! Percy! That's not-"

"I have a meeting to go to.  Good day, Miss."  With that, Percy walked on at a brisk pace mentally checking off the meeting as finished and forgotten.  Had he looked back, which he assuredly didn't, he would have seen the wide eyed wanderer walk to the end of the hallway and turn left.

Minutes later, Percy found himself sitting in the private office of the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge.  

"Minister, here is the report on the economic downturn in the last few weeks.  I might as well say right off the bat that it's obvious the market is apprehensive with the apparent return of –" Percy stopped when Fudge held up a hand.  There was a weary look on his face.  The look of someone about to do something that he had resigned himself to as inevitable.

"Percy, I didn't ask you here to talk about your report, son."

Percy inwardly cringed.  Fudge's paternal way of treating him topped his list of irritating factors.  Percy waited, wondering which aspect of his personal life Fudge was about to delve into.  His love life?  His recreations and pastimes?  How he was dealing with the separation from his family?  Fudge still tried that one every once and awhile, despite, or perhaps because Percy refused to budge and tell him anything.

"As I'm sure you realize, this is an election year."  Percy nodded, surprised, although it didn't show.  Fudge didn't often resort to the stand-in-father role for business.  It did not bode well in his mind.  "The last few weeks have vastly changed the political field from where it was when I initially began preparing for my re-election.  The situation has become decidedly stickier."  _Only Fudge would describe the return of You-Know-Who as a sticky situation_.

"I've begun to think through some changes to my campaign.  I was hoping, now, to count on Dumbledore's support…"  At this point, Percy choked, barely stifling a guffaw.  Fudge was hoping for Dumbledore's support?  Percy believed that the Ministry had been right to cut some of Dumbledore's oracle-like influence over the wizarding world from under him, but as crazy as the man was, he was still a genius.  He undoubtedly knew what the Ministry had been doing, and Fudge expected support from him?  "Or at least on his not showing open support for another candidate.  A word or two in the ears of the right people would be all that was needed for appearances.  However, this was passed across my desk today.  I'm sure I don't have to explain the implications to you."

Percy read the piece of parchment Fudge passed to him.  Halfway down the page, he dropped it.  Eyes wide with shock, he was frozen.  _No.  He'd never…It's impossible!_

Fudge gave a little sigh.  "I couldn't stop it Percy, you know that.  Once it reaches this stage, it's really just a formality for me to authorize it.  I don't know if you realize this, but this is not the first time he's been nominated.  He's never accepted before now, however.  I never expected him to.  You and I both know that it didn't seem likely…"

Percy tuned Fudge's nervous banter out as he picked up the piece of paper to reread.  He was trying to convince himself he'd misread, although he knew he hadn't.

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Chief Warlock, hereby nominates, Arthur Conrad William Weasley, to the Grand Wizengamot Council this third day of July, of the year nineteen hundred and ninety-six.  The following one hundred and forty-four signatures of registered witches and wizards affirm the nomination, according to the Wizengamot Constitutional Act, Bill fifty seven._

This time, Percy glanced through the names.  Some of the names didn't surprise him at all.  The very first name was his mother, followed by his four brothers.  He was mildly surprised that the twins had so quickly registered themselves, but that wasn't half as shocking as some of the names to come.  _Amelia Bones?  Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?  Kingsley Shacklebott?  The  Auror pegged to be the leader in the upcoming war?  _My _Father doesn't have these types of connections…does he?_

The implications of being nominated at this point in time were huge.  On July 31st, anyone wishing to be a candidate for Minister for Magic announced themselves in the summer meeting of the Grand Wizengamot.  The final election would be held six months later, on December 31st, with the new Minister taking office on the first of the New Year.  Candidates had to be a member of the Wizengamot, be able to trace their wizarding blood back three generations on one side, and have twenty other members of the Wizengamot stand up with them and no other candidate.  Looking through the list again, Percy knew that at least twenty of the people listed were members.  Eleanor Longbottom, Alastor Moody and of course, Amelia Bones stood out as prominent members.

"You say my Father has been nominated before?" Percy said slowly, trying to absorb it all.

"Yes, he has.  Half a dozen times over the years, I believe, by a few different people, even Dumbledore once before.  I counted myself among the gross that time, but well, things were decidedly different at that point in the game." Fudge paused again, and Percy had the sinking realization that this wasn't all Fudge had called him in to talk about.  "Now Percy, my boy, you do realize that this makes things much more difficult."

Percy nodded mutely once more.  He hadn't yet quite found the words to react to the situation.

"There is a lot of fear in the people right now, and they're going to be looking at all the candidates very closely.  I have to consider my staff very carefully.  Those in my immediate circle will need to make a strong impression.  The population wants faces they know they can trust to be loyal and hardworking.  Now Percy, don't get me wrong.  No one could doubt that you're hardworking, and I know your loyalty is firm.  You won't jump ship just because Arthur is your father, but-"

"Why not?" Percy felt just as shocked to have said the words as Fudge appeared to be to have heard them.  "How do you know I won't go and work with my father?"  Once he started, it seemed as if a fuse that had been waiting for months had been lit.  He hadn't yet acknowledged the part of his mind that knew where this conversation was going, but the notice about his father had shaken many of his mental walls.  For perhaps the first time in his career at the Ministry - definitely the first time since Barty Crouch's death - he wasn't filtering what he was saying to Fudge through the protocol and proper parameters set in his mind.  He felt a strange relief flood through his system.  It was nearly a year since the last time he'd allowed this sort of outburst, and of all kinds emotions were now screaming to be let out.

"Well now, Percy." Fudge was obviously trying to deal with a situation he hadn't thought possible,  something he had far too much experience with to be caught completely unaware.  "We both know that you and your father share very different political views.  You wouldn't honestly consider changing your stance to join him.  You're too Gryffindor for that, my boy."  Fudge let out a chuckle with that, not realizing that the proverbial straw had just been laid down.

"I am not _your boy_."  Percy was standing now, his fists clenched at his sides, dangerously close to his wand.  The motion had fluttered to the floor again.  "I am not your _son.  I am not even your young protégé as you like to refer to me."_

"Percy, now really…"

"You are not my father.  The man who you now apparently consider a threat to your campaign is.  There might have been a _few times when I agreed with you over him, but don't flatter yourself into thinking that was because you influenced me."  Percy paused for a moment, his mind beginning to organize itself again.  His mental guards were now waging war with the freed emotions, slowly reining them into place.  In the midst of the battle, the nagging thought that had been with him since the first twist of his stomach broke free to the frontlines.  Ignoring the warning bells ringing through his mind at the idea of actually acknowledging it, it burst._

"Just answer me one thing, Minister." Percy managed to keep most of the bitterness out of his voice as he spoke.  "After all your praises and tedious explanations of things I already know or could figure out on my own, were you going to get around to asking for my resignation?"

Fudge blinked once at Percy, then let out a relieved sigh.  "You understand then?  I don't actually want you to resign, just shift positions to something a little less visible for the time being."

The battle in his mind turned a corner there.  Percy felt like he had been slapped across the face.  It didn't matter that he had seen it coming, and not just in that hour.  He still hadn't expected it to actually happen.  Now that it had, all the other highly irrational thoughts he'd had when thinking about it seemed to have some chance of reason.

"Coffee boy, perhaps?  Or maybe you want me to address your campaign brochures and send off the owls.  No Minister, I think I'll take the other option."  Still standing, Percy walked forward a step and reached to take a blank sheet of parchment from Fudge's desk.  Pulling out his own quill, he wrote quickly and then handed it to Fudge.

"What is this supposed to be?"

"My resignation.  Conflict of Interest.  Two weeks notice, I believe, was what we stipulated in the initial contract.  Unless you wanted to renege on that?"

"Now really, Percy, my-" Fudge floundered, "Percy I already told you, I have another position ready for you, and if the circumstances weren't so difficult right now…" Fudge trailed off, a look that almost resembled defeat in his eyes.

"Maybe you should consider that next time you create such difficult circumstances.  Now if you'll excuse me, I believe I have another report to write."

*****

It took an afternoon of research on the new war tax for Percy to pull himself completely back together, during which he had plenty of opportunities to doubt the decision he had just made.  Even as he fortified the mental walls once more, however, he became surer in the position he had taken.  While Percy believed that the Ministry was generally right in its dealings, he had learnt while working for Barty Crouch that this was in spite of, rather then because Cornelius Fudge was Minister.  The more he thought about it, the more Percy realized that aligning himself with Fudge, who was definitely not as strong a candidate as he would like to believe if he was considering Arthur Weasley as a serious threat, would probably not help him in his long term political career.  He recognized now that despite everything he knew about Fudge when he went to work for him directly, he'd allowed himself to become pigeonholed in his viewings of the current Ministry politics.  He would use the next two weeks to take a fresh look around, and see which steps would best help him.  Any step had to be better then a step down in a falling government.

Percy's childhood dream of becoming Minister for Magic himself one day hadn't faded with his old Hogwarts robes, the way so many children's dreams die.  Instead, it had become the driving force behind his every action.  Some people chose love, some people chose money, Percy chose his ambition.  He knew his family thought that all he was after was the power, and the thought of the power that came with the position did thrill him.  What he wanted more than anything else, however, was to bring peace and order to the wizarding world.  It was a naïve dream – a month into his first job at the Ministry had taught him that - but it was still his dream none the less.

Looking in the mirror, he was pleased with himself.  After he had left the Ministry – pride had kept him there the full day, even though it had been his original intention to leave early – he'd needed to rush to be ready for the evening.  Percy had been planning tonight for months, and there was no way he could put it off, even if many of his senses were telling him that would be the wise route.  So he'd taken a quick shower, used every spell he could remember to dry and style his hair, taken the creases out of his best dress robes, and polished his shoes.  After he'd finished, he'd cursed himself for not finalizing the details with the restaurant before, but a quick spell removed all the ashes from his head and shoulders.  He was now looking in the mirror, trying to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything.  Tonight had to be perfect, and short of that premature wrinkle, he was at least satisfied with his appearance.  Convinced there was nothing else he could do, and knowing he was running short on time, Percy Apparated with a pop to the gates of the Meadowood Park.

"Who goes there?" The statue of a knight spoke when it sensed a presence.

"Percy Weasley, Sir Knight.  Friend of the Lady Penelope."  Percy repeated the words he had been told two years earlier when he first visited the Clearwaters.  Satisfied, the stone guard let him in.

"Percy!" He was surprised when Frederick Clearwater himself answered his knock to let him in the front door.  "Right on time as usual.  Penny's just upstairs, finishing getting ready.  Only for you would I let my little girl be stolen away on her twentieth birthday."

"Thank you, sir," Percy said, entering the large foyer.  Percy's eyes immediately focused on the grand staircase at the other end of the room.  He knew that Penelope would appear there first, from the right wing, and he didn't want to be delayed from seeing her even a second longer than necessary.  It also kept him from having to look at the painting of the _first_ Frederick Clearwater, which hung out over the doorway.  It was a muggle painting, and he found its stillness jarring.

"Care for cigars in the library while you wait, Percy?" He was clearly in a celebratory mood.  It felt preemptive to Percy, and was making him nervous.  

"No thank you.  Penelope hates the smell; I'd rather not have it lingering on me." Which was true.  Moreover, Percy knew he would be questioned on how work was coming along.  He wanted to avoid that subject with Frederick Clearwater until this evening was complete.  Telling Penelope was absolutely necessary, but he felt it safer to keep it from her father for now.  Now wasn't the time to lose his blessing.

"Isn't that caring of you, Percy.  I wish Mr. Clearwater would still be so kind.  If you remember, dear, I'm not fond of the smell myself." Constance Clearwater's voice floated overhead of the two men as she walked down the grand staircase, eventually joining them at the entrance.  "Penny will be down momentarily, Percy.  I heard your knock on the door and reminded her not to dally.  It really is about time we looked at lifting the Anti-Apparation charm for you.  After all, you're practically family now."

"That's very considerate of you, Mrs. Clearwater," Percy said with a small smile.  _And about bloody well time.  Honestly, who restricts Apparation on the grounds to family?  Percy realized that the duty to begin another bout of small talk was now in his court.  Unfortunately, the growing unrest in his nerves was blocking topics of pleasantries from his mind.  "How are the Aethonans these days?" Percy finally enquired after what in reality was only a short pause.  He was relieved when Clearwater launched into a detailed report on the winged horses he bred for sport.  He now only had to nod in agreement occasionally._

Percy was still being regaled with the bloodlines of the latest mare when he caught sight of Penelope at the top of the stairs.  His breath caught in the back of his throat.  _Beautiful, was the only thought that came to mind.  As she slowly walked down the grand staircase, unbidden, the image of a rosy cheeked teenager clutching a pile of books, dark curls blowing in the wind came to mind.  Percy savored the image longingly for a moment, before shaking his thoughts back to the present and the woman in front of him.  Elaborately styled crimson dress robes whose color offset her fair complexion had replaced school robes, and the curls were pinned back, until only a couple framed her face.  _She is not the young girl who I first fell in love with, but a beautiful, accomplished woman.  Still, _my__ beautiful, accomplished woman._

When she reached the bottom stair, he took her hand to guide her down that last step, before bringing it to his lips.  At that proximity, the scent of her perfume filled him.  It was the scent she'd worn as long as he knew her, the scent that Percy knew had a per bottle price tag similar to what his mother spent on clothes for his entire family in a year.  Yet it was a beautiful scent and it suited her.

"More beautiful then the fair Lady of the Lake, as always," Percy said softly, and then moved to place a kiss on her lips.  Penelope turned her head slightly so that it landed on her cheek.

"Percy, really now, I don't want to muss my make up before the evening has even begun."  Pulling back, she eyed him appreciatively.  "I do love the way you look in dress robes, they make you look so handsome and distinguished."

"Penny my dear, you do look lovely.  Now Percy, I trust you'll have her home by ten o clock, and stick to well lit, chaperoned places tonight, and be aware that I've placed a charm on my daughter to track her location."

"Father!" Penelope exclaimed as Percy let in an involuntary gulp.  The warning given to him three years earlier when he came by to pick Penelope up for the first time had scared him silly then, and to be reminded of it still shook him.  He was reasonably sure Mr. Clearwater was joking.

"I'm only teasing, my dear.  You're a grown woman now, no longer a teenager.  Percy has proven himself to be worthy of your affections, and of good judgment to know what is best for you."

"Thank you, sir," said Percy solemnly at the same time as Penelope exclaimed,

"Now really, Father, as if I need someone to tell me what is best for me."

Soon after this they walked together back to the edge of the property to Disapparate.  The wards set up around the house really were quite impressive, as they had been up less then thirty years.  Before that, the Meadowood Park, like the Clearwater family, had been known only in the Muggle world.  That all changed when young Frederick discovered he was a wizard, and when the early death of his father gave him charge of the estate, he quickly established himself within the wizarding world.  When they reached the edge of the property, Penelope curled her hand in Percy's, and together they Apparated.

They reappeared in the restaurant district of Diagon Alley.  Percy beamed at the appreciative looks a few of the people they passed by gave the woman on his arm, all the while making sure his arm was on her back as he led her to one of the most exclusive restaurants.  Percy had made reservations months earlier to assure that they would have an opening for him.  He'd started setting aside savings to pay for the evening around the same time.

"The Silver Pumpkin, Percy, you know it's my favorite.  Thank you so much," Penelope exclaimed when she saw where they had stopped.  Twisting around to face him, she reached up to give Percy a quick kiss.  Percy, feeling very happy with himself, guided her inside the restaurant.

The main course to the dinner had just been served when Percy felt he couldn't avoid the topic of his resignation any longer.  He wanted the topic fully discussed and put away before the dessert arrived, so he began.

"You know I hate to mix business with pleasure, Penelope, but something happened today that I really should mention."

"Important enough to mention on my birthday?" Penelope asked, eyebrows raised slightly.  "I'm only joking, dear, if you feel it is important, I know it must be."

"Well, I had a meeting with the Minister," Percy began, and then paused.  He really didn't want to bring up his father's nomination, but she was bound to hear about it soon anyhow.  Yet it wasn't directly related to his resignation.

"Is that still such an important event to you, a year after beginning to work for him?  I'm sure Fudge would be honoured to hear," she spoke after his pause, a gentle laugh in her voice.  Percy ignored the teasing and continued.

"The meeting was in regards to the upcoming campaign period.  Word has just come out of a potential candidate who looks to have some strong supporters.  It became clear that Fudge felt I wasn't adequate anymore in my position, because of the threat of this new candidate, so I resigned."

"You did what?" Penelope's voice grew loud enough that the witch at the next table over glanced their way.  Noticing this, she lowered it slightly as she continued. "Oh Percy, why would you do such a thing?  Surely Fudge wasn't about to fire you after all the work you've done this year."

"No, he wasn't going to fire me, but he was going to demote me.  I'd rather resign, with a good position in my history and find something else than be tucked away in some broom closet for the rest of my life."

"Percy, how foolishly Gryffindor of you," Penelope said with a sigh.  "You're nineteen years old and we're entering a war.  Did you really expect to remain so close to the Minister during such a critical period?  I'm sure the position Fudge had for you wouldn't have been that bad.  He likes you."

They ate in uneasy silence for a while, Percy trying to push back feelings of resentment against Penelope.  She didn't understand the world of politics.  _Fudge likes you_.  Did he want a sympathy position from Fudge?  No matter what his age or experience was, he'd worked hard over the last year, and the year before.  As the silence grew longer, Percy realized he'd have to make peace.  After all, it was Penelope's birthday, and it would be disastrous if she was still angry at him when dessert came.  He reached across the table to hold her hand.

"I'm sorry for spoiling your birthday, love.  Maybe I should have waited until tomorrow to have told you."

"No. Penelope sighed as she spoke, linking her fingers through his.  "I'm glad you told me.  You did what you thought was right, and I wouldn't want you to hide that from me.  It's that ambition you have to change the world that first attracted me to you, and part of why I love you."

Percy held her gaze for awhile, glad that things looked to be smoothing out again.  "And the way you stay reasonable when I act impetuously is why I love you."  Wanting to take advantage of the current mood, he felt it was time to move the dinner along.  "Ready for dessert, love?" he asked, almost certain she'd agree.  She did, and Percy signaled to the waiter, who nodded his head in understanding.  After their plates were cleared, Penelope spoke again.

"So now that you have the chance, what is it that you'd most like to do?" she asked, obviously in a better mood.  "Run for the Minister position yourself?"

Percy smiled at her teasing, and decided to voice some of the thoughts he'd had that afternoon.  "I'm actually wondering if I should look outside of the Ministry right now.  Any position I get right before a government change isn't going to have much stability, and a lot of politicians benefit from having some outside experience."

"Really?" Penelope's eyes were shining.  "That would make things so much easier.  Father has so many more connections in the business world than in the Ministry."

Percy began to frown.  "What do you mean?  How does that make things easier?"

"Well obviously, Percy dear, it will be a lot easier for him to find you a job outside the Ministry.  Fudge owed him a favour due to some support he gave for something or another last year, but you should know how difficult it is for a Muggleborn to gain influence within the Ministry.  Outside of the Ministry, well, they just want his gold."

For the second time that day, Percy felt as if the world as he knew it was crumbling before his eyes.  A betrayal from Fudge he could brush off in a few hours, but if Penelope was suggesting what he thought she was suggesting… "Are you saying that the only reason I got the position with Fudge was because your Father asked him to hire me as a favour?" Percy's voice was strained, he was hoping against hope that Penelope would laugh and deny what he had just said.

"Did he never tell you?  Oops, I thought he had.  Well, it doesn't really matter anymore.  Fudge liked you, Father told me so.  Said he'd come out on the better end of the deal.  You did do well, too, so I'm sure it will be easy for Father to find a friend of his who could make a position for you.  For that matter, Father has grown very fond of you.  I'm sure, if you wanted, he could find you a position within his own company."

By the end of this speech, the shock Percy had first felt had turned to fury.  "Daddy will make it all right in the end?" he asked sarcastically.  Percy was rarely sarcastic, but then, he rarely had his entire world shaken.  "Did it ever occur to you or your Father that I don't want handouts?  That maybe I'd like to do something on my own rather than going through life living off of your Father and his friends?"

He noticed that Penelope looked shocked.  "Do it on your own?  You want to flounder around at low level positions for the rest of your life?  Do you honestly think _anyone_ in politics succeeds of their own merit?  All Father was trying to do was get you established early on.  He wanted you to be happy, he wanted _us to be happy."_

"Aha!" Percy snapped.  "That's really the crux of the matter, isn't it?  Daddy wanted to make sure his precious little girl was happy, and the poor little Weasley boy would obviously never be able to provide her happiness on his own."

"What are you implying Percy?  You're talking nonsense."

"You're spoilt, Penelope. Percy laughed now, a small part of him realizing he was on the brink of hysteria.  "I think I always knew it, but I thought there was more to you than that.  Now I realize I was wrong."  He pushed back the flood of emotions that were trying to tell him his heart was breaking.  Right now, he needed to keep relatively calm and finish this off.  "You're happy being spoilt.  You expect it.  It's all you've ever known.  I've tried for years and years to give you everything I could, but it's never been enough.  What I slaved over, you took for granted."

"I like being spoilt?" Penelope's voice had risen to match Percy's, and this time she didn't seem to care about the looks they were getting from other tables.  "If you mean I take advantage of the things in life that come without hard work just as much as the things that do, then maybe you're right.  I don't see the point in denying something just because it came easily.  If someone wants to help you, why should you stop them?  Don't let your pride ruin your life, Percy, or you'll end up just like your father."

Percy stood up, noticing out of the corner of his eye that the waiter was approaching with their dessert.  "I am nothing like my father.  I suppose I really should thank you.  If you hadn't said anything, I might have made the biggest mistake of my life."

The waiter had arrived now.  Apparently assuming Percy's stance was part of the planned activities, he placed the covered silver platters down on their table.  Before Percy could stop him, he'd lifted the lid off of Penelope's to reveal a diamond ring.  As the Chamber quartet he'd arranged began playing Penelope's favorite suite, Percy grabbed the ring.  He was shaking slightly now with all the pent up emotions, but he couldn't set them free quite yet.

"Tell your father that I decided this was best for his little girl."  With that, he threw a small bag of galleons down on the table, and Disapparated.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Sunlight was peaking through the curtains the next morning when Percy was woken by an owl.  Opening his eyes, he sat up and stretched the relieve the kinks in the back of his neck.  It was no wonder he was sore – it seemed he'd spent the entire night on the couch.  The two empty wine bottles on the floor by his feet told him why he couldn't remember his decision to stay there.  He'd bought that wine, expensive wine, intending to bring Penelope by to celebrate.  Instead he'd celebrated the beginning of the new life he would build up all on his own.  Alone.

He bent to take the letter the owl had delivered from the floor, and then quickly lay back for a moment when he realized his mistake in that action.  He found his glasses jammed between two cushions.  Dragging himself off the couch, he took the letter with him into the kitchen where he waved his wand a few times to get a pot of coffee brewing.  Percy sat down at the table, and took a look at the fat envelope in his hands.  It was postmarked from America, meaning it was likely from young Karl Flourish.  He and Percy had exchanged letters off and on for the last year.  Percy had found it therapeutic to have someone to tell all about Crouch - someone who really cared about what he had to say.  He had found himself beginning to regard Karl as the adoring younger brother he'd never really had.  Wincing slightly at his pounding headache, Percy opened the letter and began to read.

_Dear Percy,_

_You'll never believe the news mom gave me when I came home from school.  She's enrolled me in Hogwarts for the fall!  Apparently it was one of the conditions of Father's Will.  So now, rather then moving up to the secondary level of Merton, where I had a guaranteed position on the Quodpot team, I have  to go to some stuffy British school. (No offense-even if you don't even have Quodpot.)  We'll be arriving at the end of the month.  Mom seems to think I'll need a month to adjust to __Britain__ before she abandons me at Hogwarts._

_She's at least throwing me a party so that I have a chance to say good bye to all my friends.  The least she could do, considering she didn't tell me while I was still at school.  Apparently my teachers knew, but mom made them promise not to tell me.  How fair is that?  It's my life, not hers.  All of this is really making me wish she'd just let me see what Father's Will actually says.  I'm sure there's some part in there that says she's not allowed to keep everything about my Father and what he said about me a secret.  Maybe when I'm actually in __Britain__ I'll have a better chance of seeing it._

_So what's Hogwarts like?  You were Head Boy there, didn't you say once? Is that like school president?   Do you know anyone there now? Stacey Boot's cousin is there and Stacey mentioned once that they have some really weird traditions.  Do you really have to serve detention under a murderous ghost?  My little sister, Emily, has an article about how a giant teaches there in her stupid Harry Potter scrapbook. (Oh great, Harry Potter goes to Hogwarts, doesn't he?)   And what's the deal with your Houses?  I mean, we split our houses by your home region, but I get the impression that it's something different over there.  Which are the best dueling clubs?  I hope I stand some chance at getting into a good one even though I'm starting late._

_Anyhow, I don't think I'm going to have much of a choice in this matter.  Dad's been quieter then mom about it, but I get the impression that he sees this as being necessary.   I don't think he likes the idea though.  What a surprise, as it has to do with Father.  _

_Enough of that.  I wanted to ask you about a couple things you said in your last letter.  So this You-Know-Who that's back, you've said Father was the person responsible for holding him at bay during the last war? I heard mom and dad saying something about how Hogwarts was the safest place I could be in Britain right now, because Dumbledore was the only one who could fight You-Know-Who. (I think that might have been part of the reason dad didn't like the idea of me going, the fact that there's a war going on.)  _

_Did Father and Dumbledore work together?  I mean, Dumbledore's kind of a nut, isn't he?  I looked occasionally at the British papers in the library this year at school, and he was in a lot of the cartoons in the editorial sections.  I didn't really understand exactly what they were saying, but they seemed to refer to him as if he was crazy.  Yet mom and dad have spoken very highly of him when talking about Hogwarts.  Apparently he was at their wedding or something.  I think I remember him being at The Funeral.  Wasn't he saying something about You-Know-Who being back then already?  And something about Father's other __son?_

_I guess the Ministry is really scrambling now, what with Father being dead, and Dumbledore gone mad.  What do you think my Father would do if he was still around?  Did he ever think that You-Know-Who would come back?_

The letter went on for another page or so, but Percy couldn't concentrate on it any more.  Karl had a tendency to come to the wildest conclusions based on his limited knowledge of Barty Crouch and the British wizarding society.  They were usually amusing, but not when Percy was suffering through the first major hangover of his life.  Noticing the coffee had brewed, Percy rose to pour himself a cup.  Returning to the table, he noticed another letter addressed to him sitting on top of the thick Saturday edition of the Daily Prophet.  Percy picked it up, intrigued by the seal.  After taking a few sips of coffee, he opened it.

_Percy Weasley,_

_It has come to my attention that you are currently seeking a new position.  As chance has it, I am currently looking to create a small support staff for an upcoming project.  I have heard your credentials are quite good, and I think you may be who I am looking for.  If you'd like to meet to discuss this further, please send an owl back with details of when is convenient for you._

_Sincerely,_

_Lucius__ Malfoy_

Percy couldn't help but feel smug.  Twenty four hours after he'd left Fudge, and already offers were coming in.  He didn't need Fudge, and he certainly didn't need Frederick Clearwater.  The only thing of sense Penelope had said the night before was that muggleborns didn't have much influence within the Ministry.  Lucius Malfoy on the other hand, well, the Malfoys were a very old and powerful family.  Percy wasn't sure of all the details of Malfoy's latest snafu with being arrested, but he knew that he never went further than an outer holding cell in Azkaban, and Amelia Bones had since cleared him of all charges.  _Just one more example of the current incompetence in the Department of Law Enforcement.  When they finally do arrest someone, it's the wrong person._

Lucius Malfoy was a wizard who had intrigued Percy long before he began working in the Ministry.  Growing up, he had never heard any good of a Malfoy, yet not even a month had passed working for Barty Crouch before he realized that Lucius was greatly respected by his mentor.  Both rumor and success never seemed to be too far away from Lucius Malfoy.  He always had his fingers in a few pots, so Percy wasn't sure exactly what was being offered, but it was definitely something to consider none the less.

Finishing his cup of coffee, he sat back to think through the previous evening.  He knew that Penelope, in her way, was trying to help him.  He just didn't want that kind of help, and if Penelope thought he'd accept it… Percy sighed.  He thought Penelope knew him better than that.  Still wearing his dress robes from the previous evening – they'd need a good cleansing spell now – he pulled the ring out of his pocket.  For a few minutes he just sat there, twisting it around in his fingers, watching the sunlight catch on the diamond.  The ring had been his inheritance from his great-grandparents.  Bill had got the family spell book, Charlie, Great-Grandfather's wand, and he got the wedding ring.  Percy suddenly wondered if Fred and George had come into possession of the sword and shield that had been held in trust for them until they were of age.  They'd probably sold it to get enough capital to invest in the property he'd heard they opened.  He doubted they'd place much value on the family history.

The ring was more than just a scrap of gold and a diamond.  Percy knew that a lot of old magic had been woven into it.  If he had given it to Penelope, it would have protected her from many dangers.  It also would have sealed their commitment.  If she'd taken that ring, and put it on, there was no way he could have asked for it back.  It would have bound them him to her till death did them part.

Percy made a tight fist around the ring, and pounded it down on the table.  It just wasn't right.  Penelope was the one thing in his world that had made sense through it all.  His family didn't understand him, everything he believed at work kept being ripped out from underneath him, but Penelope had always been there.  Even now, after everything that had happened, he couldn't imagine his life without her.  Percy didn't regret walking out, but there had to be something, somehow, that could make that relationship work.  He needed it.

"I thought I smelt coffee."

Percy looked up through bloodshot eyes to see his cousin and flat mate, Marco Weasley, walk in and drain the coffee pot into a cup of his own.  When Percy started to protest, Marco tossed him a vial of something that looked particularly vile indeed.

"Hangover remedy.  You were passed out on the couch when I got home from work last night, so I assumed you'd need some.  It goes down easier if you hold your nose."  With no other greeting, Marco took a seat at the table with Percy.  His disheveled hair and the shadow on his chin suggested he hadn't been up long himself.

Percy looked at the potion suspiciously, wishing he could come up with a reason to distrust it.  Marco was in his last year of training as a healer at St. Mungo's, however, and definitely had more experience with hangovers then Percy had in his relatively sober life.  So taking Marco's advice to hold his nose, he downed the remedy, grimacing as he swallowed.

"What are you doing up so early if you worked late last night?" Percy asked, automatically lifting his coffee up to wash away the taste only to be reminded that there were only drops left.  He glared at the full mug in Marco's hand.  His cousin only laughed at him.

"More caffeine will only mess with the potion, cousin.  As for my early rising, well, eleven is reasonable even for me."

"Eleven?  It's eleven o clock?" Percy looked sharply at the clock on the wall he'd ignored previously.  "I don't believe this, half the day is wasted!"

"From what I could see, you wasted half the night away drinking.  Alone, I may add, which was not the plan if I remember correctly.  I, er, take it things didn't go so well."

"No," Percy said flatly.  "And before you ask, I don't want to talk about it."

"Suit yourself."

They sat there in silence for a few minutes; Marco drinking his coffee, Percy mentally going through his schedule to reassure himself this lie-in wasn't going to cause it much harm.  Silences were normal between the two very different flat mates, and often preferable to Percy than dialogue.  Marco was, well, not half as bad as Percy's immediate family, which was why he'd agreed in the first place to the idea that they could live much more comfortably putting both their incomes towards rent.  He definitely wasn't your standard Weasley, and not just because he'd inherited his Italian born mother's dark hair and olive skin rather then the trademark Weasley red hair and freckles.  Percy had just always assumed that his smart, headed for success cousin was a little less carefree then he'd turned out to be.  Picking up the Daily Prophet, he was shocked out of his mental organization by the front headline.

"Did you see this?" he asked Marco incredulously.

"They managed to get it into today's paper then," Marco said as if he'd been waiting for Percy to say something.

"You knew about this?"

"I told you I worked late last night.  Let me see that.  If they managed not to bungle the story with the rush they must have put on it, I'll be very surprised."

"Large scale Muggle torture, yes, they got that right.  The Dark Mark seen in the sky for a mile around, well, that may be a slight exaggeration.  Muggles sent to St. Mungo's for extensive emergency treatment, deaths reported…" Marco had a bitter smile on his face as he spoke.  "A few of those who did survive may be wishing they hadn't for awhile yet.  Ministry Aurors were prompt in arriving to the scene.  Ha!"  Marco's smile dissolved into a short laugh.  "If the Aurors had come any later, the whole thing might have gone unnoticed.  From what I heard, at least."

"Did they catch anyone?" Percy snatched the paper back and skimmed through the article again.

"According to this article, half a dozen people," Marco said dourly

"Really?" Percy said excitedly, reaching that point in the story himself.  "Excellent.  You-Know-Who's return is going to be rather short lived if this continues."

Marco looked at Percy blankly.  "One thing that article fails to mention is that there were over a hundred attackers last night."

Percy was silent for a moment at this shocking fact.  How had You-Know-Who been able to gather so much support in so short a period of time?  Percy knew his history, and he was old enough to have lived through part of this history.  Even at the height of Voldemort's power there hadn't been that many known Death Eaters.  

"Were they all Death Eaters?" he asked, trying to piece things together.  He knew that the number of people who had been sympathetic to You-Know-Who's cause had been a much higher number.  However, in the past, displays like this had been staged only by the Death Eaters themselves.

"Well, they hardly walked around wearing badges.  The Dark Mark was shot up into the sky at any rate.  If the Aurors really did manage to catch a few of them, I'm sure you'll hear about it sooner than I will.  After all, you're the one working in the Minister's office.  I guess this means you'll be working the weekend again."

Percy paused just before agreeing to this.  Running around behind a frantic Fudge was hardly the way he wanted to spend his weekend, and now, he was under no real obligation to do so.

"No," said Percy, finding it incredibly enjoyable to be able to say the words.  "Working weekends isn't mentioned in my contract, and I already put in a few hours of overtime this week.  Fudge should be able handle this on his own."

Marco gawked at Percy.  "What has come over you, little cousin?  First you spend a Friday night getting drunk out of your mind, and then you turn down a chance to go to work?  If I didn't know better, I'd think you were becoming me!"

"I've resigned my position with Fudge." Percy couldn't see any benefit in keeping that from Marco.  "He decided that a year's hard work didn't guarantee my loyalty to him in the face of a new opponent in the election this year."

Now Marco definitely looked shocked.  "What would ever give him that idea?  Unless, of course, there actually is someone more competent running for the position, and that wouldn't be too hard."

"Well, my father has been nominated to the Wizengamot – by Dumbledore himself."  Marco would understand the implications of that as well as he had.  

Marco whistled, running a hand through his hair.  "That well, that makes sense, actually."

Percy looked at Marco unbelievingly.

"Uncle Arthur had some very..." Marco paused for a moment, as if searching for the right word. "Interesting guests at Christmas."

"What do you mean, interesting guests?  You never mentioned this before," Percy said with a frown.

"You wouldn't let me tell you anything once he passed the critical stage."

Percy was silent for a moment.  The owl from Marco telling him his father had been rushed into St. Mungo's half dead had actually arrived just before the one from his mother.  For a few hours, he'd tasted a fear colder than anything he remembered feeling in his entire life.  His father was dying, but Percy couldn't go see him.  Not then, not when his father had got to that place by doing the very thing Percy had pleaded with him not to do.  Love had clashed with pride that night, and Percy was left in fear.  If he'd gone back then, he wouldn't have been able to leave again.  He would have undone everything he'd set out to prove to himself and his family six months earlier.  How much courage would it have taken to go back, to face the questions and accusations?  How much courage did it take to remain, haunted by the what could have been?  

Percy was still sitting wide awake, numb, with both letters in his hands when Marco came home the next morning.  He'd then made Marco reassure him that his father was going to live.  When he was certain of that, he'd been able to sleep.  Only once sleep returned,  the nightmares did as well.  The nightmares that had haunted him since he was a child.  Darkness.  Pain.  Father!  Those were the only thoughts he was ever able to remember in the morning.  After three torment filled nights, the package from his mother had arrived.  Percy didn't need to open it to know what it held.  Love, in the form of a scratchy hand-knitted sweater had been delivered to the prodigal son.  He couldn't open it.  The decision made months before, tested only days earlier, now had to be held onto.  Percy had sent it back before its power crushed his resolve.  He had made his choice.

Percy looked away from Marco, and got up from the table.  While he could feel the potion beginning to work, there were still aftereffects that needed to be taken care of.  Besides that, Percy couldn't handle his cousin when Marco was so perky and he was on the verge of losing his emotional control again.  Making an enemy out of his roommate was not something he wanted to add to his list of disasters within the last twenty four hours.  "Father has always had _interesting friends," Percy said slowly. "That doesn't mean those friends should promote him to a position of power.  Fudge is scared, and if he's scared, I don't want to end up trapped by his fear."_

Marco looked hard at Percy.  "Whatever you say, cousin."

Despite taking the weekend off, Monday morning came all too quickly for Percy.  He knew that Fudge probably had a three foot long list of duties for him, aggravated by his not coming to work over the weekend, so Percy headed straight for that office when he arrived. He was not looking forward to this, since he already had a busy week planned.  

"I have an assignment for you this morning, Percy," were indeed the first words Fudge said after Percy walked into his office.

"But sir, I have that report to finish so it will be ready for the Wizengamot Council," Percy said, already knowing that this had probably slipped Fudge's mind.  The man could only think of what was necessary in the here and now. Friday was the first of the summer sittings of the Grand Wizengamot Council.  

"Oh, don't worry too much about that.  I'm sure you'll get it done."

"But sir –" _When, exactly?_

"I am still your boss, Percy, and if I have something I want you to do, it is your duty to do it.  Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir.  I understand."  Y_ou'll look like a fool when you don't have all the facts at Council but that's not my responsibility._  _I just hope you actually have something for me that needs to be done.  There was already so much on the agenda already in preparation for friday, because everybody knew a call for a new Minister for Magic was going to occur this year.__. "What do you want me to do?"_

"I need you to answer some questions a reporter from the Quibbler has about the ministry.  Possibly give a tour to show we aren't breeding basilisks behind closed doors."

"You can't be serious?"  The words slipped out of Percy's mouth, even though he knew that Fudge was indeed serious.

"Why wouldn't I be?  I don't have the time, and you've never hesitated to represent me to the press before."

"Yes, but the Quibbler?  Don't you have some intern in Public Relations who could handle this?"

"Public Relations is busy all day with a press conference on the weekend's events."

"Then why can't the Quibbler reporter go to the press conference?"

Fudge paused for a moment, a pleased expression evident on his face.  This proving to Percy Fudge was enjoying this torture.  "Because she told my secretary that if I was unavailable, she'd be happy to talk to you."

Percy knew it would hardly help the matter to point out he wasn't exactly available either.  He'd just have to make sure it didn't take all morning.  "When did you want me to meet with this reporter?"  Percy asked.  He wondered if he'd have enough time to outline the next section of his report.

"She's waiting for you in your office.  She's spent the last few days poking around the Ministry, and when she showed up again this morning, we realized we'd have to deal with her officially."

Waiting for him.  It seemed there would be no putting it off until later.  He should have known Fudge would find some way to get back at Percy for not coming into the office over the weekend.

True to Fudge's word, when Percy entered his office, waiting there was a lost waif.  At least that was his first impression.  Crooked, dingy blond braids hung down from either side of her face, which turned towards the door as it opened.  At that moment, Percy again found himself looking into two of the biggest silver blue eyes he'd ever seen.

"You!" Percy spluttered in disbelief.  "What are you doing here?"

"Good morning, Percy," the child – she couldn't be more than a child – chimed merrily.  "Were you _not_ expecting me?"

"I-" Percy tried to find his voice again.  He could not believe this was happening.  It was as if he hadn't quite woken up this morning, and was trapped in a strange and bizarre dream.  "Are you with the Quibbler?"

"Yes, Luna Lovegood, special investigative reporter." She pulled a scraggly old quill out from one of her braids and sat with it poised over the parchment on her lap.  "Thank you for agreeing to do this interview."

Percy bit his tongue before telling her that he didn't have much of a choice.  _Lovegood.  The pieces were beginning to come together.  Edmund Lovegood was the eccentric editor and owner of the Quibbler.  "What is it I can do for you today, Miss Lovegood?"  Percy's tone was acquiescent.  The sooner he could get this farce of an interview over with, the sooner he could get back to his real work._

"I was wondering if, in light of recent events, the Ministry would like to come out in the open about some of the hidden defenses they've been planning?"  She looked up expectantly at Percy, as if this was a perfectly sane question to begin an interview.

"What on earth are you talking about child?" Percy asked, mentally cursing Fudge to the deepest vault in Gringott's.  "That sort of thing is classified information."

"So you do have something planned, though?  Can I put you on record as saying that?"

"What?" Percy was realizing how the Quibbler was able to print the rubbish that it did.  "No, of course not!"

"You would rather go on record as saying the Ministry has no plans whatsoever to deal with You-Know-Who then?"

"Yes - I mean no."  Percy paused for a moment to think through his response, wishing he'd thought to swing by Public Relations and pick up a copy of the latest press release.  "The Ministry is putting all of its resources towards dealing with this problem."

"Does that include the army of heliopaths as well?" Luna asked after scribbling his previous answer down.

"Army of heliopaths?  They don't even exist." Percy's tone was full of disdain.                           

Luna looked surprised to hear this.  "You mean they _haven't told you?" she made another short notation on her pad.  "I thought you were quite close to the Minister."  _

"No, I don't know about this imaginary army of the Minister's, and before you ask, I don't know anything about the legion of Oliphaunts either."

Her eyes did what Percy would have imagined to be impossible, and grew even wider.  "You have a legion of Oliphaunts?" Luna asked full of what appeared to be serious reverence and awe.  "Where are they being kept?  I mean, that would be hard to hide, wouldn't it?"

Percy decided he had humoured her long enough.  Even if she was related to Lovegood, he didn't have to put up with this sort of inane babbling.  "Look, Miss Lovegood, you've satisfied your curiosity about holding an interview.  Was your mother ill, and your father unable to find a baby-sitter so that he had to take you to work with him these past few days?"

"My mother is dead and my father is in Sweden." Luna's voice had grown softer and more vague.  While Percy regretted the comment about her mother, he did still have to ask 

"Then why aren't you in Sweden with your father?"

"Because his new girlfriend is, Rita Skeeter."

_That's it.  This is a dream. Percy couldn't think of anything to say to that.  He'd have to ask Marco if odd dreams were an side effect of that potion, because this was beyond the pale of his imagination.  _ Soon I will wake up to discover that the most meddling reporter in the history of media has _not__ teamed up with the most ludicrous editor._

"It was supposed to be a family vacation," Luna continued without any prompting from Percy.  He certainly didn't want to hear anymore of the nightmare. "Then he invited that… beetle along." Luna's eyes had glassed over, and Percy got the impression she had completely forgotten he was in the room.  "The Crumple-Horned Snorkacks were always mum's favorite.  You'd think he would at least remember that, and wait for the next trip."

"Why are you not in Sweden with your father?" _And does he even know what you're doing here?  _Percy's repeated question seemed to break Luna out of her reverie.  Her eyes clouded over briefly with anger.

"I do believe I am the one asking the questions in this interview." Luna looked back down at her pad before speaking again.  Percy doubted she'd even heard him when he tried to stop the interview.  "What are your thoughts on the recent attack in the Department of Mysteries."

Now she wanted to talk about that?  Well, at least he had an answer to give there.  "The Ministry has already released a statement on that matter.  If your _paper_ missed it, I'm sure Public Relations could give you a copy.  Actually, there's a press conference going on there later today that you may be interested in."  Percy got up and rummaged through a cabinet, pulling out a blank press pass.  

"You are not the Ministry.  I asked you what _your thoughts on the matter are."  _

Percy wrote _Luna Lovegood, Quibbler on the pass.  With any luck, Fudge would never know he had dodged the interview like this, and he would have the entire morning in peace to do his work before Fudge barged in with another interruption.  "I am a part of the Ministry.  My views reflect its views."_

Luna looked at Percy until he started to fidget from the gaze of her eyes, which he still hadn't quite got used to.  "Oh, I see," she said finally.

Percy fought back the desire to defend himself.  It was standard Ministry policy to defer to official statements on matters such as these.  Besides that, his own viewpoint was similar to the Ministry's on this issue, for the most part at least.

"I have one more question, if you don't mind?" Luna said haughtily.  Percy wondered how it was that after he'd been polite enough to go along with this whole episode, she would feel the right to be offended because he wouldn't come up with the scoop of the century for her.  Regardless, he waved his hand for her to go on.  One more question, and he could attempt to forget this whole thing had happened.

"How do you feel about the fact that the Ministry has released the man who ordered that Ron and Ginny be killed?"

Percy's quill stopped mid-signature, suspended above the press pass.  Slowly letting out a deep breath, he let his quill rest on the page, although he'd forgotten about finishing the signature.  A second passed before he was able to find his voice.  "I haven't heard all the details of the matter," he said carefully, "but it is my understanding that Mr. Malfoy was cleared of all charges after he was given the chance to share a full testimony of the evening's events.  He is a respectable gentleman, _not a murderer.  What grounds do you have to accuse him of that?"_

Luna stood, her face was a picture of disbelief and… was that pity?  Percy frowned at that.  He couldn't stand being pitied.  When she began to speak, however, Percy realized it wasn't pity, but disgust.

"On the grounds that I heard him say it."  Luna's eyes had stormed over now, and Percy discovered that they were almost frightening like that.  Her words had invoked the memory of a passing comment of hers the week before about his siblings.  Apparently he'd been right on his first assumption in assuming that she was one of Dumbledore's.  Her further accusation of Malfoy didn't phase him much.  Malfoy was cleared of all charges on the basis of sound testimony and good character, and if this girl was there, that included any charges she had in mind.  

"I can see I'm clearly wasting my time here.  Ginny did mention something, but I had hoped…" she trailed off, but then quickly refocused, and held a hand out to Percy.  "I may as well go to this press conference."

Percy finished signing the pass, and handed it to her.  "Good day then, Miss Lovegood," Percy said, courteously now that it was obvious she was on her way out.  Luna accepted the pass from Percy, and looked up at him as though she was about to say something.  After a very uncomfortable moment, however, she just shook her head and walked out the door.  Percy sat for a good fifteen minutes after the door shut, trying to decide if all of that had really happened or not.  He still wasn't convinced he hadn't just dreamed up the whole event.  Her last question did make him very aware of the draft of a response to Lucius Malfoy in his bag.  Percy just couldn't believe that Bones would be incompetent enough to let the man go free if he wasn't innocent.  In the end he just made himself a cup of coffee, and buried himself in his work as usual.

Percy didn't dig himself out of that pile of work until the week was almost over.  Fudge seemed to have decided that every project he'd ever hoped Percy would do needed to be completed in the next two weeks.  Percy began hoping that Fudge would find his replacement, in whatever form that was going to take, sooner rather than later.  Despite this, Percy managed to exchange a few owls to set up a meeting with Lucius Malfoy.  Thursday evening, the eve of the Wizengamot Council sitting, Percy finally managed to get out of work only an hour overtime.   He Apparated directly to The Leaky Cauldron, where Lucius had asked to meet him.  

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Mr. Weasley," Lucius Malfoy said after they'd taken a seat at one of the tables in a corner of the bar.  "I wish I'd had somewhere else to meet with you, but I'm having repairs done on my townhouse, and this really was the most convenient place to stay while they're being done."

"Thank you for the invitation, sir," Percy said truthfully.  He had wondered why Malfoy would pick such a public venue, but he supposed the sometimes eccentric wizard has his reasons.  "I must admit, I was a little surprised that you heard I was looking for a new position so quickly."

Lucius smiled, settling back in his chair.  "I have many contacts, Mr. Weasley, and I've had my eye on you for awhile now."

"Have you really?" Percy attempted to hold back the pride that remark sent surging up inside of him, but his voice was slightly smug.

"Yes.  I made a note to watch your career after Crouch spoke highly of you once."

The conversation paused for a moment as Tom came by to take their orders.  Percy couldn't hold back the small smile that came to his face when Lucius mentioned praise from Barty Crouch.  Fudge might pretend to have been a friend of Mr. Crouch's, but Lucius Malfoy, from what Percy had seen, really had been.

"So tell me, Mr. Weasley, what would make an up and coming wizard such as yourself leave a good position under Fudge?" Malfoy asked after Tom had left.  

Percy didn't hesitate before speaking.  He'd assumed a question of this nature would come up, and had his answer planned.  "The Minister revealed a few structure changes he was going to implement in preparation for the upcoming election.  It became clear to me that his government might not be where I want to be at the end of the year."

Lucius chuckled lightly.  "I understand completely Percy-may I call you Percy?" Percy nodded and he continued.  "I can see why Crouch appreciated you so much.  You obviously have a good eye for what's going on in the world of politics.  So would you agree that what is needed right now is a new government?"

"Fudge kept the housewitches and the flobberworm farmers happy.  We're entering a war now.  Fudge has always shown his weakness when faced with a problem he can't just delegate away, and that weakness could be disastrous in the position he's in."  Unconsciously, Percy was quoting Barty Crouch word for word, and Lucius smiled in recognition of this.

"Yes, interesting you should bring that up, as it relates to an explanation I feel I owe you."

"An explanation, sir?" Percy asked.  There were a million explanations that Lucius Malfoy's very existence, never mind his newly confirmed innocence demanded.  The mysterious wizard was not normally very open in giving them, however.  It certainly piqued Percy's curiosity to hear he would be privileged to hear one. 

"Please Percy, call me Lucius.  We're both adults.  Yes, an explanation.  Now, I know you've heard about the incident in the Department of Mysteries a few weeks back."

"Dreadful turn of events.  It's such a shame to think that You-Know-Who could really be back."

"Yes, it was, but did you know that there were hints of it before that night?" Lucius asked in a hushed tone, causing Percy to sit up straight in amazement.

"No!  Certainly Fudge wasn't aware of it."  Percy knew – it had come up more than once during the final discussion he'd had with his father – that Dumbledore had believed since Mr. Crouch's death that this would happen.  To hear that Lucius Malfoy had believed similar stories, although no doubt from a different source, was very surprising to Percy.

"Well, he'd been told, but he brushed it off.  Fudge had a fine case of denial, and it just about cost the wizarding world everything.  Luckily, there was a small group of us who were following the rumours closely.  We went to the Department that night on the word of a source who told us You-Know-Who was going to be meeting with Harry Potter to negotiate."

Percy gasped.  Harry Potter and You-Know-Who?  All the pieces seemed to be fitting together.  He knew that boy was nothing but trouble, and he'd always seemed to have a strange fascination with the dark arts.

"Sure enough, Harry Potter and a few of his friends, including two of your younger siblings, I believe, arrived at the Department of Mysteries, although how they got there from Hogwarts I can't imagine.  Rumour has it they forced the centaurs to help them get out, which would take more dark magic than  was under the impression they taught at Hogwarts.  The situation was under control until that vigilante troop of Dumbledore's showed up.  In all the confusion, I'm afraid the disguises myself and some friends had taken caused us to be mistaken for followers of You-Know-Who.  Dumbledore covered for St. Potter as he always does, and paraded him as a hero, but all they really did was bungle up a mission that had taken months of planning."

Percy could hear the anger and bitterness in Lucius's voice, and he really couldn't blame the man.  He'd been out doing a job Fudge should have been doing himself, and got thrown into Azkaban for it.

"Thank goodness they finally listened to reason, although I'm still trying to get them to free a few of the men who came along with me that night.  Which brings me to why I asked you here today.  Up until this time, I've never felt the need to actively involve myself in the the world of politics."

Percy drew in a breath, letting that sink in as Lucius paused.  _Up until now…Is he saying what I think he's saying?_

"I have always counted on the fact that there were others who had the situation under control, and I didn't have to be onstage to play my role.  Perhaps if Crouch was still around, I'd feel safer.  However, with war at hand and an impending government change, I can't sit back and let the battle be fought by Fudge and whatever fool Dumbledore decides to back."

Percy smirked.  His father could indeed be considered a fool for what he was doing.  Even if he had a large group of friends, he knew nothing about running a government, let alone a country at war.  "So are you telling me," Percy said, wanting the gratification of being the one to actually say it, "that you plan on running for Minister?"

Lucius grinned, and Percy knew he'd read him right.  "Yes.  No sense in complaining about what you're not willing to do yourself.  What do you think of the idea, Percy?" Lucius asked, leaning in slightly as if telling a secret.  "I haven't told that many people about my plan yet."

Percy's pride swelled within him.  He now knew of three people running for the position of Minister.  One was fairly obvious, another quite ludicrous, and the final one…intriguing.  He wondered how many others out there were privy to all three of those pieces of information.

"I think it's a fine idea, sir," Percy's voice had undertones of excitement as he spoke.  "The Ministry is lacking someone who will stand firmly against You-Know-Who and not be afraid to take action.  Law Enforcement has been lacking proper control ever since Crouch left that department, as you've experienced first hand.  I'm sure your government will correct that."

"That, of course, is one of my first priorities.  Bones is fair, but war, unfortunately, is not." Percy nodded.  "My next question then, is will you help me?"

"Pardon me?" Percy could barely believe his luck.  Unless there was another candidate he didn't know about, which seemed unlikely, he was reasonably sure he was sitting with the next Minister for Magic, and he was asking Percy for help.

"I need a staff for the next six months…and hopefully beyond that.  Would you be interested in being a part of my team?"

"I'd be honoured, sir, absolutely honoured," Percy said truthfully.  Even in the unlikely outcome that he didn't become Minister, a position working with Malfoy would leave him many options.

Lucius looked very pleased with Percy's answer.  "I'm glad to hear that.  I know you've already brought honour to your family."

That startled Percy.  He looked quickly at Lucius to see if the older man was speaking in jest.

"Yes, you have.  Your family is much older than those who currently claim its name.  It's been far too long since a Weasley did something worthwhile with their life.  I'm sure its no secret to you that your father and I have never been on the best of terms, but you've proved yourself to be more than him."

Percy was torn between beaming with pride and wanting to hide in discomfiture.  The irony of Lucius Malfoy, the man who'd striven so hard to put down the Weasley family, declaring him an honour to his blood was not lost on Percy.  "Sir, there's something I should probably tell you," he began hesitantly.  Percy didn't think Lucius would take react to the news of his father running for the Minister position the way Fudge had, and after all it would come out in Council the next day.  There was still the chance that he was about to forfeit the opportunity sitting in front of him.

"I already told you that I have many contacts," Lucius said with a smile, stopping Percy from saying anything further.  "If I thought you'd side with your father, I wouldn't have invited you here today."

As if their conversation had been an _accio_ spell, Percy watched over Lucius shoulders as his twin brothers walked into the pub.  They were wearing lurid green jackets unlike anything Percy had ever seen them in, and he was surprised to notice they actually looked more like grown wizards than schoolboys.

"The usual for me, Tom," Percy heard Fred say to the barman.  The old wizard smiled back, and said something Percy couldn't make out, motioning towards the corner of the room where he was sitting.  Percy quickly looked away, but not before seeing the look of horror in his brothers' eyes.

"There are some things that go beyond blood." Percy said, determined not to look back at his brothers.  He could hear a scuffle by the bar, though, and from what he could make out George was holding Fred back.

"I don't know what you mean, Tom," Percy heard George say in what he recognized as a purposely carrying voice.  "I don't see any of my brothers in here today, and Tom?" George's voice went down to a more normal level.  "Better make it a double."

Percy knew Lucius hadn't seen his brothers walk in, but he wondered if he would have recognized their voices.  "You have made your choice, then, Percy," Lucius said, and Percy couldn't help but think somehow he knew what had just happened.  "Fudge was a fool if he thought you would waiver.  You _are a Gryffindor, after all.  Now, should we discuss the terms of our agreement?  I hope you realize I am willing to be very generous."_

Percy could only nod.  For the rest of the conversation, he was only half focused on Lucius, half watching his brothers whose backs were now firmly towards him laugh and joke with the many witches and wizards who stopped by the pub after work.  He was so caught up, he was only dimly aware that he was setting himself up with a salary that almost doubled what he was making with Fudge.  As the twins were leaving, he found himself catching George's eye for a moment.  It was Percy who broke the stare first.

_I have made my choice.  I can't turn back now._


End file.
